


your best answer

by pallasjoanna



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Miscommunication, a bit of angst, mentioned kurotsuki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 11:49:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10718793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallasjoanna/pseuds/pallasjoanna
Summary: “Already bitter about love at your tender young age, Iwa-chan?”“You always said I acted like an old man.”“It isn’t something to aspire to,” Tooru said dryly, reaching out to where Iwaizumi leaned on the wall, smoothing out the crease in his forehead with a finger. “Well anyway, as they say, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”Iwaizumi glared at him, crossed eyed, and batted away his finger. “Have you?”Of the struggles of one Oikawa Tooru, and revelations of a sort on Saturdays.





	your best answer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xladysaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xladysaya/gifts).



> Hello xladysaya! I'm so sorry this was ten days late, and I might have deviated from the prompt a little bit? (A lot) Honestly this started as a truth or dare fic and somehow ended up here. I hope you can enjoy this though!

This Saturday is a comfortable kind of cloudy, the kind that tempts students to sleep in, but since Tooru is a man on a mission, he brings his notes and his charger to a milk tea shop instead. Saki-chan looks as if she’s swallowed half a dozen lemons when Tooru plops down on the booth nearest to the counter.

“You don’t even go here,” she says. “You don’t even drink milk tea.”

Tooru winks. Usually, no, but his landlord has banned him from the building’s vending machine after the incident with the Kopiko. And then there’s the thing with Iwa-chan. “Not if there’s extra sugar and milk, Saki-chan~ Wintermelon, please!”

The way Saki-chan is glaring at him has less to do with how Tooru is spitting upon the dignity of tea and more of the fact that she’s been planning to toss his body behind a dumpster since his first day in uni. It kind of makes him proud to be able to inspire such homicidal rage in people. (“Of course you would,” Iwa-chan would say, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a way Tooru wants to be fond affection.) But she does go behind the counter to make his order, grumbling all the way while another student tries to chat her up.

Tooru, for his part, gets right to work. He’d usually be at practice at this time of the day, but his coach had cancelled today’s practice. Something about the weather. That’s fine. He’s been a bit behind on his coursework, and really, the universe doesn’t need more openings to mess up his plans than it already has.

And for the past week, the universe has seemed content enough not to throw any Ushiwaka- or Karasuno-sized wrenches into his life, almost like a paltry apology for last Saturday. From Monday, he’s left the apartment before Iwaizumi wakes up—even he’s not sure where he managed to dredge up the willpower or contempt for life for that endeavor—and then gone back home long past dinner, when he knows Iwaizumi is asleep or pulling an all-nighter in his room.

It’s… weird. Like missing a limb. Like that split second your foot misses the stairs. Like that one time Tooru’s family went on a vacation without Iwaizumi when they were six. Not even separate universities could put this wide a distance between them. (Once Iwaizumi got accepted into his, Tooru had immediately planned a trip the next day to have a look at the apartment he had his eye on for the both of them; _do I have to do everything around here, Iwa-chan?_ he’d teased.) But Tooru knows his success in avoiding Iwaizumi is only due to the latter avoiding him too, and that stings more than anything else.

That’s fine. He can hole up here until the world comes falling down.

Or until Saki-chan kicks him out. Which, about five hours later, is exactly what she proceeds to do.

Tooru looks up from his textbook. “I didn’t do anything,” he says immediately when she stalks towards his table. He bought two orders of milk tea in all, both with the right amount of milk and sugar he was looking for (read: a lot), and if he didn’t know better, he’d say it was Saki-chan being a little less grumpy towards him. He starts slurping at the rest of his drink as fast as he can.

Saki-chan plucks one empty plastic cup off his table. “I’m closing up at two,” she says, an explanation and a “now go away, shoo” all in one.

“This early?”

“There’s a thunderstorm, and I still need to get to the train station. What?” She glowers at his incredulous look. “It was in the news. It’s raining.” She points to the window.

He nearly falls out of the booth trying to crane his neck while just sitting down. Outside makes Tooru regret not having the foresight to bring an umbrella (Iwa-chan would definitely have something to say about that). Rain is falling in streams down the shop window, the chilly kind of rain that he would have associated with sweater weather, only that he can see people struggling to hold on to their umbrellas from over here.

There’s only a few people left in the café—even the students have gone and left already. “Ah, just give me a moment, Saki-chan.” He flashes her a smile. “I’ll need to call someone to pick me up since we can’t have my beautiful face getting ravaged by a cold—“

“Just do it,” she grunts, starting to put up the some vacant chairs on the tables while her coworker mans the counter.

Tooru’s phone has been on silent mode since this morning and buried deep in his bag. He’s almost afraid to check his messages. He covers the screen with his fingers, slowly sliding them down as he presses the home button.

_2 missed calls from Iwa-chan._

At least it wasn’t his actual mom.

_7 messages received._

One is a PSA about the thunderstorm in the afternoon and evening. Four are from Iwaizumi—various gruff rephrasings of ‘where are you’. Two are from Sugawara, also asking him where he is because Iwaizumi probably asked him as to where Tooru is. That, and ‘Iwaizumi-kun is worried about you.’

Oh, Tooru has no doubts that Iwaizumi is worried about him _because_ Tooru has been worried about him the whole week too, while giving the both of them space. Ugh. He presses the heel of his palms above his eyes.

Last Saturday, the car ride back home had been deathly quiet, a vacuum sucking all the warmth from the cramped space.

“This doesn’t have to change anything between us,” Iwaizumi had said.

Pfft. Yeah right.

He sends a quick message to Kuroo—Sugawara’s apartment is unfortunately for Tooru, half-occupied by Sawamura, and Tooru really does not need PDA being rubbed into his face—about crashing there for a bit before he taps on the missed call notification.

Iwaizumi picks up on the first ring.

_“Where—“_

“Milk tea, Iwa-chan,” Tooru says swallowing past the lump in his throat.

_“Okay, just stay there for a bit while I—“_

“Nope.” Tooru tries to smile, if only to make his voice sound more chipper over the phone. It doesn’t work; it’s more of a panic than anything. “Iwa-chan, it’s fine. Go study. Tetsu-chan’s apartment is nearer here than ours, so I can just go there—“

A short beep. Tooru pulls the phone away from his face just in time to see a message pop up at the top of the screen. Kuroo tells him that he is, in fact, more than three hundred kilometers from Tokyo right now and won’t be back until Monday.

“Oh, come on.”

 _“Thought so. Be there in a few,”_ Iwaizumi says before he hangs up.

 

*

 

Tooru was about halfway dead to the world at only six in the evening when Kuroo called, inviting him and Iwaizumi for a night out since he finally lucked out on reserving a room at the jam-packed karaoke place near their university. Cheap food, cheap alcohol, cheap decent rooms—perfectly affordable for broke college students.

It took some poking and prodding to get Iwaizumi to come. “You and your panda eyes need to sleep,” he said. “At this rate, you’ll inhale your textbook up your big nose, Iwa-chan,” Tooru also said.

In the end, the room was nearly full when they got there, and it could have been a mini-Nekoma alumni reunion—Tooru recognized Morisuke and the chatty beanpole always visiting him at uni, and some others. At least, if it weren’t for the both of them, plus the blonde Karasuno middle blocker by Kuroo’s side, looking critically at the two people working the Kinect dances like he had half a mind to show them how to do it.

Tooru commandeered the screen at one point (“We’re at a karaoke place, you heathens.”) and got a couple of rounds of the sparkliest jpop he could muster. Partly because he could, mostly just to see Iwaizumi’s eyes twitch. Bokuto burst into the room after he did, and Tooru wedged himself into the sofa right next to Iwaizumi to brace himself for the temporary hearing loss.

“Kind of weird,” Iwaizumi said as they came back from the front desk later; the phone was a hopeless case of static, and their contraband fish crackers weren’t enough for a group who mostly consisted of volleyball players. Tooru’s ears were ringing in the relatively somber hallway. “Kuroo’s kind of, I don’t know, quiet tonight? Though you’d know more than I do.”

He knew Iwaizumi was referring to the part where he stuck with Tsukishima for the few hours they’ve been here, a dopey smile gracing his normally catlike face.

“You finally developed observational skills, Iwa-chan? I knew you weren’t a lost cause.” Tooru snickered as Iwaizumi threateningly punched his shoulder. It’s really just a tease, otherwise, it would be unjust statement because Iwa-chan does notice a lot of things—things to do with volleyball; with people; with Tooru ever since they were six years old and Iwa-chan prided himself on being one month older.

They stopped outside their room. “It’s the usual thing. It was supposed to be a date between Tetsu-chan and Tsukki-chan. Tetsu-chan was trying to play it cool by inviting everyone else so that Tsukishima won’t feel pressured. Such a gentleman. And Tsukki-chan was probably fine with it being just the two of them—or was that just his resting bitch face?”

Iwaizumi snorted. “Figures. Of course.”

“Already bitter about love at your tender young age, Iwa-chan?”

“You always said I acted like an old man.”

“It isn’t something to aspire to,” Tooru said dryly, reaching out to where Iwaizumi leaned on the wall, smoothing out the crease in his forehead with a finger. “Well anyway, as they say, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

Iwaizumi glared at him, crossed eyed, and batted away his finger. “Have you?”

Tooru’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“Have you, y’know, been in love?” Iwaizumi fidgeted, clearly regretting this topic, just as uncomfortable as Tooru was.

They had only ever spoken of dating and romance in passing sentences; on Tooru’s part, because he didn’t need the additional reminder that he was in love with his best friend. The universe, and Iwaizumi himself, already did that enough.

But there, in a karaoke place with Bokuto’s rendition of a BTS song filtering through the walls, there was a clarity in Iwaizumi’s eyes, like he saw through Tooru, and that, paired with the grimace on his face, made Tooru’s heart drop somewhere in the vicinity of his feet.

Iwaizumi knew.

“I’ve dated a lot of people, Iwa-chan.” His voice came out just a little bit strangled. At least. His gaze dropped to the floor.

“That’s… not an answer.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed. He started to push at the door to their room, eager to get away but looking at Iwaizumi from out of the corner of his eye. “But I’ll leave the talking to those who obviously are.”

 

*

 

They’re both drenched from the dash to and from the car when they get back to the apartment, dripping water all the way up to theirs. Iwaizumi gets two clean towels from his room. Tooru is about to take one from him when suddenly, he is being manhandled onto the couch, Iwaizumi perching precariously on top of the backrest with his legs at Tooru’s sides while he rubs Tooru’s hair dry.

For several long minutes, the only sounds in the room are the rain, Iwaizumi’s quiet breathing, and Tooru’s own pulse in his ears.

Tooru squeezes his eyes shut for a brief second. He can deal with Iwaizumi yelling at him. He can deal with sullen silences. What he can’t deal with is Iwaizumi being unbearably gentle with him, squeezing Tooru’s heart in his hands. It usually makes him feel like he’s being stomped on the chest by a very loving elephant. This time, it’s more of an elephant jacked up on caffeine, accompanied by an urge to kind of cry.

He’s about to give in an inch, about to lean back into Iwaizumi when his maybe soon to be ex-best friend says tersely, “We should talk.”

“Sure. Hi, Iwaizumi-san, nice weather we’re having isn’t it?”

“You know what I mean.”

Tooru gives a little laugh. “What? Breaking up with me already, Iwa-chan?” he says, just to be obnoxious.

Iwaizumi slides back down beside him, his own towel slung across his neck. He glares at Tooru. “Don’t be an asshole about it. You’ve been avoiding me since then.”

“That’s rich,” Tooru says. “Considering I had to work if I wanted to get away from you in middle school and high school. Takes two to tango and all that.”

Iwaizumi flinches. He won’t meet Tooru’s eyes, and he doesn’t say anything else. Tooru’s sure that he’s not imagining the way Iwa-chan moves further towards the opposite end of the couch.

Fuck, why does Tooru always ruin the good things in his life?

Tooru wants to apologize, but he doesn’t, not quite ready to when he knows that it would just lead to the inevitable conversation that he’s been working for a week to delay. Iwaizumi still doesn’t comment even when Tooru boots up the laptop on the low table (Iwaizumi’s) and puts on Pacific Rim for a distraction because retreating to his own bed somehow feels like losing.

It’s just the dim rainy afternoon light illuminating the room. Tooru tries to sit stoically through Pentecost’s death and fails, so he tries to sniffle as quietly as possible. Think about it this way, maybe if he cries now, maybe he’ll cry a little less later? Agh.

Mako and Raleigh are already reunited in the middle of the ocean when Tooru hears the faintest, “Sorry.”

Tooru whips his head up, looking at Iwaizumi who’s still not looking at him. He goes and snaps the laptop lid shut first, then slowly edges towards the middle of the couch. “Iwa-chan, I—“

“I didn’t think it would bother you this much, that’s all,” he adds.

“I just—I needed some space,” Tooru mutters, resignation creeping up on him like the tide, slow and inevitable. “I’ll get over it in due time, don’t worry.”

The thing is, he’s always planned to tell Iwaizumi someday about this several-years-long Iwa-chan-shaped ache in his chest. Maybe after graduation, when Tooru would be more sure of them to take the risk, or when he’d be more ready to laugh off the rejection because damn it, he’ll take it like an adult. He hasn’t imagined it being so quick and uneventful. Of course he’s allowed to sulk.

Fuck last Saturday. Very much.

Tooru curls his knees close to his chest, trying really hard not to look at Iwa-chan.

“Like I said,” Iwa-chan says, “I’m so sorry if my feelings are bothering you.”

“ _You_ ’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” Tooru says, sagging against the backrest. “We can’t help what we feel after all. I mean,” he tilts his head just the tiniest fraction, his smile wobbling despite his best efforts, “you’d be missing out on me being a fantastic boyfriend and all, but I’m sure you’ll live.”

Iwaizumi’s hands curl tightly around his towel. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, why don’t you,” he grumbles, taking Tooru’s attempt at levity, as stilted as it is.

Then, later and more quietly, “Are we…still friends?”

“ _Iwa-chan,_ ” Tooru whines, leaning as casually as he can into Iwaizumi’s shoulder, relieved when Iwaizumi doesn’t pull away, that at least Iwaizumi’s willing to still give him this. The first few seconds of pretending that everything’s okay are already excruciating, but Tooru will live through this too. “You’d have to try harder to get rid of me.”

“Good,” Iwaizumi says, “because as much as you are a pain in the ass—“

“Wow, rude—“

“—you’re still the best best friend I could ask for.” A hesitant hand starts carding through Tooru’s hair. “I just— I just need some time. You’re just not that easy to get over.” He pauses. “I’m not repeating all that shit, by the way.”

It’s been a while since they’ve had any outright sappy declarations of friendship. The Iwa-chan-shaped ache just grows. Tooru’s nose twitches like he’s inhaled something spicy, and he buries his head further into Iwa-chan’s shoulder. At least like this, he can still cry into Iwa-chan’s loving buff arms—

…Wait.

“Oikawa, are you crying—?”

What.

 “Iwa-chan.” Tooru grips Iwaizumi’s shoulder, just shy of digging his nails into the skin, sitting up and properly looking at him for the first time in a whole week. Iwaizumi’s nose is red, and his eyes are glistening as he looks up at Tooru with lips parted just so.

Tooru’s point stutters into nothingness for a moment. How dare—who does Iwa-chan think he is, being so unbelievably gorgeous like that?

“Iwa-chan,” he repeats, “I know you have a thing for kicking my ass, but I need you to repeat what you just said.”

Iwaizumi sighs in exasperation. “Really? Can’t we just—“

“Get over. You said I’m not easy to get over.”

“Ugh. I don’t think you need more fuel for your ego,” Iwaizumi says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Iwa-chan.”

“What.”

“Iwa-chan,” he says slowly, “I don’t think we’ve been having the same conversation.”

“ _What are you talking about?”_

“We were talking about how I’m in love with you, but you don’t see me in the same way, right?” Iwaizumi makes a horrible choking, wheezing noise that’s akin to a dying elephant, but Tooru won’t deign to insult elephants like that. He stares at the floor. “I can’t believe I have to recap this, Iwa-chan. Put yourself in my shoes. Now I have to love with the embarrassment of confessing to your angry hedgehog face twice over, even if the first time doesn’t really count, and…”

He’s rambling. When he looks back up, Iwaizumi has the weirdest expression on his face, like he’s gone past shock and about five steps away from Tooru needing to call emergency services.

There are pieces falling into place at that very moment, and he may be dense about a few things, but even he’s not blind enough for this.

Because if Iwa-chan didn’t think Tooru was in love with him—there was all of this week, and that ‘you’ll always be my best friend’ spiel, then—

_You’re just not that easy to get over._

“Oh my god,” Tooru says.

“Oikawa.” Iwaizumi makes a half-aborted gesture, probably about to bury his head in his arms, but he faces Tooru even with his cheeks blazing red. “Tooru. So let me get this straight—“

Tooru throws his hands up in the air. Okay. That’s it. He’s done with this planet. “Nope, Oikawa-san is currently unavailable,” he says, getting up from the couch.

“Oikawa—“

“Havetogobye!”

And he just runs.

“OI!” Iwaizumi yells after him, “COME BACK HERE YOU PIECE OF—“

“NO FUCKING WAY, YOU NEANDERTHAL—ah!”

He’s about halfway to his room when Iwa-chan manages to grab the back of his shirt. Tooru shrieks at the possibility that he’ll get suplexed onto the couch, but more because his foot catches and slips on his fallen towel, and he falls right back onto Iwaizumi. Only, Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to expect Tooru’s weight, and they both crash onto the ground in a hapless, graceless heap.

For the record, it’s a stunning ten seconds of resistance. It’s all elbows and knees and knocked breaths for a few moments after.

“Does your knee hurt?” Iwaizumi mumbles into his ear.

Tooru flexes it, just to be sure. “It’s fine.”

Tooru moves to get up, but Iwaizumi just wraps his arms snug around Tooru’s waist. He does this weird wiggle-shimmy until he’s sitting against the wall, Tooru against his chest, trapped in his arms and in between his thighs like an oversized lanky teddy bear.

God. Tooru can die happy. Being crushed by Iwa-chan’s thighs certainly isn’t the worst way to go, if his rapidly pounding heart won’t do him in first. The room might already be spinning.

He takes several deep breaths. “I’ve been in love with you since first year high school, you know?”

It was a bit of a crisis then. He doesn’t mention that some days where Iwaizumi had scolded him for not getting enough sleep that year, it was because Tooru had woken up in the middle of the night, sheets damp with sweat and other things, but thoughts full of _Hajime, Hajime, Hajime_. The warm fuzzy dreams were even worse.

“No, I didn’t know,” Iwaizumi says. His breath puffs warmly at the back of Tooru’s neck, and he shivers. “How was I supposed to know that?”

“Wow, what happened to our ‘perfect trust’?”

“It doesn’t work if you don’t tell me anything, you asshat.”

“I flirted with you throughout high school!” Tooru very nearly wails in despair. “Makki and Mattsun knew! The whole team, your classmates, probably even Auntie!” In retrospect, most of Tooru’s flirting attempts were met with a volleyball to the head, a blank stare, or Iwaizumi checking to see If Tooru had a fever. “Why didn’t _you_ say anything?”

“Because I have crap timing that’s why.” Iwaizumi tightens his hold on Tooru’s waist. “Like that time with Ito-san—“

“Ayumi-chan? That was middle school.” Tooru pauses. “Oh my god, you had a crush on me in mid—“

“ _And_ ,” Iwaizumi says pointedly, “I wanted to. Last Saturday. I thought maybe I had a chance. But then you started avoiding me after I thought you knew, so—“ he shrugs. “Here we are.”

“Here we are,” Tooru echoes. He draws soothing circles at the back of Iwaizumi’s hand. “I’m really glad that we are, Iwa-chan.”

Because he also doesn’t mention this:

Tooru knows that there are people who can know each other for years and years but not love each other in the way he loves Iwaizumi, in the way he _wants_ to love Iwaizumi—bone-deep and ever-growing. Physically, Iwaizumi is the most attractive person he knows—and he’s well aware of his bias, but nothing beats the solidity of Iwaizumi, his piercing green eyes, all the way up to his cute hedgehog hair and angry bird eyebrows.

But more than that, Iwaizumi makes him want to be a better person. And Tooru wants to be the one to walk beside Iwaizumi for a very long time. Preferably their whole lives.

If he ever says this out loud, he’ll have to migrate out of the Milky Way.

“Iwa-chan.” Tooru lets his head fall back against Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “Since we’re now boyfriends, we should—“

“We’re not,” Iwa-chan says. At Tooru’s incredulous look, he smirks and adds, “You haven’t even asked me out yet.”

“Fine. Since we’re now have a mutual understanding, we going on a date tomorrow. Bright and early!” Tooru says. “And then you can tell me all about your crush on middle school me because, wow, how did that happen?”

“Ugh. You’re lucky that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Iwaizumi presses those words, the most nonchalant confession ever, onto the skin of Tooru’s neck. Tooru hums and closes his eyes, imagining little Iwa-chan doodling hearts all over his notebooks, and ‘Oikawa Hajime’ or ‘Iwaizumi Tooru’ scribbled into the margins.

 

*

 

Rain is _not_ falling on this Sunday morning, but it does dawn sunny and stifling hot from the humidity. Tooru groans and detaches himself from the bed, hazily remembering that they had both stumbled into Tooru’s bedroom after an impromptu nap on the cold hard floor. But the other side of the bed is empty, distinctly void of Hajime, and he clucks his tongue. That just won’t do.

Tooru follows the scent of breakfast and walks in on Hajime diligently working on sunny side ups by the stove, shirtless under the apron and dangerous for Tooru’s heart. They’ll both have to settle for burnt as Tooru cups Hajime’s jaw in both of his hands, and he’s surprised when Hajime can’t even suppress his grin as he slings an arm around his waist for their official first kiss together. He smiles against Hajime’s mouth, giddy and punch-drunk on love.

And it’s the happiest Tooru thinks he’s ever been yet.

 

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i know the direction of the fic is all over the place, but i hope you still enjoyed it! the most challenging part was the dialogue. i've never written this much dialogue ever and i'm dying.
> 
> i'm not sure if i succeeded with the misdirection and the two-way misunderstanding, but oh well, that's something to learn and improve on for next time!
> 
> say hi at my [tumblr](https://pallasjoannas.tumblr.com)!


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